Drunkblogging the Veep Debate

At the turn of the century, some wags joked that both parties' presidential tickets were upside-down. That is, Cheney-Bush would have been a stronger ticket than Bush-Cheney, and Lieberman-Gore would have been a stronger ticket than Gore-Lieberman.

History repeats itself, perhaps the first time as farce.

Hillary Clinton is 68 and seems to be suffering from something, even if it's nothing more serious than a penchant for strong drink and head wounds. Donald Trump is a year older and, while robust and energetic, also isn't in the best shape.

So I'm not kidding at all when I say that tonight might be the most important Vice Presidential debate since Dick Cheney and Joe Lieberman both found themselves on the wrong ends of their tickets.

I usually write a quick wrap after each debate, but I don't know how to do that for you tonight.

This wasn't a debate. This was a two-on-one contest in which Mike Pence held his own on the issues where he's strong, and deflected when he could when held to account for the many careless/thoughtless/stupid things Trump has said as a candidate and as a private citizen.

Pence had a yeoman's task, and I suppose he handled it as well or better as anyone could have hoped or expected.

But it's impossible to take anything away from tonight's "debate," because the "fairness" was kangaroo court judge and the "balance" was Chris Christie on the opposite side of a teeter totter from an underfed Pomeranian.

So if we learned anything tonight, it's that Elaine Quijano is unfit to moderate a debate, and that Tim Kaine is as much of an ass as Hillary Clinton is conniving and corrupt.

And the real shame of it (other than Pence being on the bottom of the ticket) is that I spent so much time in slack-jawed wonder at the awfulness of it all, that I still haven't finished my fourth cocktail.